RUBINSTEIN, Anton Gregor, an eminent composer and one of the greatest pianists the world has ever seen, was born Nov. 30, 1829 [App. p.776 "1830"], of Jewish parents, at Wechwotynetz, near Jassy. He received his first musical instruction from his mother, and afterwards from a pianoforte-teacher in Moscow named Villoing. So early as 1839 he made his first concert-tour with his teacher, journeying to Paris, where he made the acquaintance of Liszt, who was then teaching in that city, and under whose advice he there pursued his studies. A year later he made a more extended tour, going to England (1842), and thence to Holland, Germany, and Sweden. In 1845 he went to study composition with Professor Dehn in Berlin. From 1846–8 he passed in Vienna and Pressburg, teaching on his own account. In 1848 he returned to Russia, where the Grand Duchess Helen nominated him Kammer-Virtuos. After studying diligently in St. Petersburg for eight years he appeared as a fully-fledged artist with piles of original compositions, first in Hamburg and then all over Germany, where he found enthusiastic audiences and willing publishers. From this time his fame as a pianist and composer spread rapidly over Europe and America. He again visited England in 1857, and made his first appearance at the hilharmonic on May 18. In 1858 he returned home again, gave brilliant concerts in St. Petersburg, Moscow, etc., and settled in the former city. At this period he was appointed Imperial Concert-director, with a life-pension. Thenceforward he worked in conjunction with his late friend Carl Schuberth, for the advancement of music in Russia, and had the merit of being the founder of the St. Petersburg Conservatoire in 1862, remaining its Principal until 1867. The Russian Musical Society, founded in 1861, was also his. On leaving Russia he made another triumphant tour through the greater part of Europe, which lasted till the spring of 1870. When in his native country, in 1869, the Emperor decorated him with the Vladimir Order, which raised him to noble rank. In 1870 he rested awhile, and expressed the intention of retiring from public life; but it was not likely that this desire could be fulfilled. He held the Directorship of the Philharmonic Concerts and Choral Society in Vienna for the next year or two, and this was followed by fresh concert tours. Every year the same threat of retirement is made, but the entreaties of the public, and, probably, the desire of providing for his wife and family, brings the gifted genius before us again and again. He has recently extended his tours as far as the south of Spain, from whence he hastened back for the funeral of his brother Nicolas. Of late years he has been threatened with the loss of his eyesight, a misfortune caused in some measure by his excessive application to composition; such a deprivation, however, would not prove an overwhelming catastrophe, as his memory is phenomenal.
Rubinstein's playing is not only remarkable for the absolute perfection of technique, in which he is the only rival Liszt ever had, but there is the fire and soul which only a true and genial composer can possess. He can play a simple piece of Haydn or Mozart so as to positively bring tears into the eyes of his hearers, but on the other hand, he will sometimes fall a prey to a strange excitement which causes him to play in the wildest fashion. An example (though hardly a commendable one) of his perfect mastery over tone is to be found in his performance of the Funeral March of Chopin's Sonata in B♭ minor. This well-known piece, regardless of the composer's intentions, he begins ppp', proceeding crescendo, with perfect gradation, up to the Trio, after which he recommences ff and with an equally long and subtle diminuendo ends as softly as he began. As an effect—the idea of a band passing—this is stale and unworthy of an artist, but as a tour de force it can only be justly appreciated by those who have heard it done and then sought to imitate it. It is an impossible feat.
The compositions of Rubinstein are not yet sufficiently mellowed by time for us to judge them fairly. Their style may be considered as the legitimate outcome of Mendelssohn; there is a fine broad vein of melody which is supported by true and natural harmony, and a thorough technical skill. But there is also the fatal gift of fluency, and the consequent lack of that self-criticism and self-restraint which alone make a composer great. Rubinstein has written in every department of music, but as yet his songs and chamber-music are all that can be called really popular, excepting always his 'Ocean Symphony,' which is known all over the world.[1] This is undoubtedly one of his very best works, the ideas throughout being vivid and interesting, while the workmanship shows unusual care. From the composer's having added an extra Adagio and Scherzo after the first appearance of this Symphony we may presume he has a particular regard for it, though to risk wearying an audience by inordinate length is scarcely the way to recommend a work to their favour. The 'Dramatic' Symphony (op. 95) has been admired, but is not frequently performed, while of the other three symphonies the 1st and 5th have each only been performed once in England. His Pianoforte Concertos are very brilliant and effective, especially that in G (op. 45); they will perhaps in time take a permanent position. His Violin Concerto (op. 46) is a very fine work, though but little known. The Persian Songs (op. 34) are perhaps the most popular of his vocal works, but there are many very striking and successful specimens among his other songs—'Es blinkt der Thau' and 'Die Waldhexe' for instance—and the duets are full of beauty and passion. The numerous drawing-room pieces which he has written for the piano are far superior to most of their class, his writing for the instrument being invariably most brilliant, as is
- ↑ First performed in London by Musical Art Union (Klindworth) May 31, 1861; with extra movements, Crystal Palace, April 12, 1877; Philharmonic, June 11, 1879.
